Lost and Found
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Post ep 5x04 "Cradle to Grave. Hotch goes to Emily for comfort. Co-auth'd w/tonnie2001969


**A/N - This is designed as a post-ep for 5x04 "Cradle to Grave". Please let me know if anyone has a post-ep idea for this episode that they'd like to see written for either Hotch/Prentiss, Rossi/Prentiss or Rossi/JJ. This ep has me stumped. As ever, please drop a note and let me know what you thought. Thank you.**

**Lost and Found**

He knew he shouldn't be here. He had no right to be here…to ask anything of her. The decision had been rashly made…impulsive. And those were two things that Aaron Hotchner rarely was. But after this day…this day where he felt like one of the last things that made him the person he was had been ripped away….he needed her. He needed her warmth…her understanding…her gentle touch.

And that need overwhelmed any doubts he had about seeking her out.

He simply couldn't face the thought of his cold, empty apartment tonight. Not tonight, of all nights. He'd known he could have hit a bar with Morgan, sure to be surrounded by a raucous throng of admirers and draining more than one draft . Or he could have crashed at Dave's cabin, a heavy scotch, or two, definitely on the menu. But neither of his two friends had what he needed this cold evening. He needed to feel warm again. Even if it was only for a few minutes. And there was only one woman capable of raising the temperature in his frigid body.

Emily.

Glancing at his watch he read the lighted dial. 9:15. Not too late. She should still be awake. He knew her habits, having watched her on cases enough in the past two years. If he knew the woman inside that apartment at all, she'd be curled up on her couch, warm cup of tea at her side with a book in her hand. Her predictability was oddly reassuring in his current world of chaos.

Raising his hand, he gripped the brass knocker lightly, gently tapping it against the wooden door. It seemed he stood there for long minutes, time drawing to a standstill, but in fact it was mere seconds.

Holding his breath as the door in front of him slowly opened, he met her surprised eyes.

"Hotch?" she asked, furrowing her brow as she examined his strained face for answers to questions she hadn't even asked yet.

"I didn't know where else to go," he replied simply, his voice hoarse to his own ears.

Shaking her head in confusion, she widened the door. "Come inside," she ordered softly, reaching out a soft hand to grasp the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him the last few steps into her inner sanctum, the small contact oddly reassuring to both of them in that moment.

Standing just across the threshold as she closed and locked the front door, Hotch smiled slightly as he looked around the comfortable surroundings. It was patently Emily. A mixture of tasteful antiques and modern amenities. Inhaling deeply, he was met with the scent of the vanilla candle she had burning on the coffee table. It was relaxing, and he began to feel the tension slowly slipping away from him. His mind knew that he was in an honest-to-goodness home where she actually lived.

"Hotch, sit down," he heard her invite from behind him. "Tell me what's going on," she ordered, her articulate voice soft and modulated.

Obeying blindly, he sank down on the wide overstuffed sofa and released a soft sigh, his eyes drawn to the flickering candle on the table. Watching the shadows dancing on the edge of the flame, he wondered idly how such a small light could dispel such a great darkness.

"Hotch?" she asked softly, worry clouding his words as she studied his lined face. He looked older than his years tonight. His hunched shoulders seemed to only verify that life had kicked him in the ass and left his beaten carcass at her door. Not that she minded, though. God knew, she wanted to be the person he turned to. But still, seeing him like this was a shock.

For while she always knew that he had a soft core that could be reached, she was still accustomed to dealing with the outer shell that he always kept firmly in place. That was, until tonight.

Hearing the tone in her voice change from curious to concerned, Hotch forced his eyes to hers. A man could easily get lost in those deep chocolate brown orbs, flecks of gold floating in her gaze. How many times had he forced himself to recite multiplication tables in his head to avoid that very occurrence?

"Hotch, talk to me, please," Emily softly pleaded, her concern growing by the second. "Otherwise, I'm going to be forced to call in reinforcements."

Licking his lips, Hotch searched for words. How could he find the words that would explain his unexpected appearance on her doorstep? Shaking his head, he opted for the truth as he said simply, "I think I've lost my way, Emily."

"What?" she asked quietly, unease beginning to leak into her thoughts. Something was very wrong here. The self-assured man that she knew…that she loved…he'd never sounded like this before. Forlorn. Alone.

Lost.

"I'm lost," he repeated, turning his gaze back to the candle, taking a strange comfort in the fact that the light continued to shine.

Dropping lightly to the couch beside him, Emily folded her legs underneath her as she reached a tentative hand out to cover his. His skin was cold to the touch, the pads of her fingers chilling from the slight contact. Rubbing lightly, Emily shook her head. "You aren't lost," she whispered. "And even if you were, I'm right here with you. You don't have to be lost alone."

Hotch swallowed as he nodded mutely. For this moment, he knew that Emily didn't need his words or explanations. She always knew exactly what to say to calm him, no matter what the situation might be. Even now, he felt his frantic heartbeat slowing…his uneven breaths beginning to regulate.

Somehow, he knew that he was drawing strength from this beautiful woman, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it.

Sitting silently with him for a few long minutes, she simply stared at his profile, stroking the clenched hand underneath her fingertips. Finally, she whispered, "Do you want to tell me what happened tonight?"

Smiling grimly, he kept his head turned from hers, knowing he couldn't meet her eyes as he answered her soft question. "I think I gave away the last part of what made me human to Morgan."

Confused again, Emily tilted her head, her black strands falling softly on her shoulder. That sounded cryptic, even for Hotch, and she prided herself on being quick at deciphering his words and actions. "What do you mean?"

"I resigned, Emily. I'm no longer unit chief," Aaron confided softly, quickly, wanting to see her face, but almost afraid to look back into those eyes.

Eyes widening, Emily felt the breath leave her lungs. "You quit?" she finally asked, her voice barely audible.

"Not exactly," Hotch grimaced, turning his hand underneath hers to lace his fingers with hers. Never had he needed her innate strength more than he did at this moment.

Gripping his hand tighter in hers, feeling his skin started to warm slightly, Emily replied, her tone brooking no argument. "Explain it to me, Hotch."

"I couldn't find another way," he began, feeling the tightness grip his chest once more as his mind began to recall these past few days. "It was either this or the team be splintered. There wasn't another way," he rambled, needing her to know the reasoning. Needing her to know that his choices were predicated on preserving their team. On preserving them.

Emily tried desperately to follow his line of thought, failing miserably along the way. "The Bureau forced your resignation?" Emily gaped, eyes widening. Shaking her head, she voiced the first thought that naturally came into her mind as she started, "Surely, Dave…"

"I told Dave not to pull any strings," Hotch replied, shaking his dark head as he interrupted, already knowing she would have assumed that their friend would have stepped in immediately. "It would have just created more complications. I've been under scrutiny since Foyet's attack. Rightfully so, I guess," he shrugged, reluctantly admitting the need for such a thing.

Swallowing tightly, he continued, comforted by the feel of her soft hand around his, as he said, "Chief Strauss came to see me before we left for New Mexico. She gave me an ultimatum. If I agreed to willingly step down as Unit Chief, she would leave the team intact and give me a position on it. If I didn't, she said that she and the advisory panel would be forced into doing a thorough review of my actions, thus, bringing the entire unit under the microscope." He then paused, and said slowly, "I chose to save the team."

"But…" Emily started, needing to ask questions, her mind not able to wrap around these sudden changes yet.

"The thing is, for a change, Strauss was right. I'm not fit to lead the unit anymore, Emily," Hotch whispered, once again tightening his hand around hers. "So I turned it over to Morgan," Hotch said, smiling bitterly.

"Not Rossi?" she asked faintly, trying to process these new developments that he'd dropped in her lap.

"Son of a bitch wouldn't agree to step up." With a half-genuine laugh, he added, quoting their friend, "Said he'd end up killing Strauss in cold blood and put us in more of a mess than we're already in."

Blinking once, Emily nodded slightly, recognizing the truth in the statement and the wisdom in the choice. "He had a point."

"Yeah," Hotch snorted, his mind wondering for just a moment if that outcome would be so bad.

"It'll only be temporary though, right?" Emily asked shakily, needing reassurance, not entirely sure how she felt about the idea of Derek Morgan leading them into battle.

"Supposedly," Hotch sighed with a shrug, not able to offer a guarantee when he knew that the choice might not be his. "But, we both know Erin Strauss holds a grudge."

"And Morgan? How did he take this information?" Emily asked carefully, praying with every word that Derek had managed to display some tact. Lately things between he and Hotch had been…cool, to say the least, and Derek's mercurial temper had made more than one unexpected appearance in these past weeks.

"Remarkably well. He didn't want to do it…take the job . It took some convincing." Remembering the conversation, Hotch added, almost sadly, "Said he'd fight for me, if that's what I wanted."

"No one on this team is going to think this is the right decision, Aaron. You're our leader," Emily said steadily, truth in her words. "A lack of title doesn't change that."

"I'm not sure who I am any more, Emily. That's the problem," Hotch admitted, closing his eyes against the sudden wave of despair flooding him. For the past few days, he had forbidden himself to even acknowledge these feelings, let alone allow them to surface. But sitting here, next to the only woman on earth that he trusted completely, he felt the walls start to crumble completely.

And he felt like he was going to dissolve with them.

Seeing the misery and despair so deeply engraved on his face, Emily tightened her grip on him, suddenly afraid that he was slipping away from her, right before her very eyes. Calmly, surely, she murmured, "You're the same honorable man that you've always been, Aaron. You just happen to be trapped in an untenable position at the moment. But, that moment, it'll pass."

Her words seemed to stop the avalanche that was threatening to overtake him, shoring up his soul for that moment. Cracking one eyelid, he looked at her, asking almost skeptically, "You really believe that?"

"I really do," she replied sincerely, pure honesty shining in her eyes.

Staring at her face, Hotch whispered, unable to stop the words as he admitted, "That's why I came here. That look."

"My look?" Emily asked, raising a brow.

"You're the only one that looks at me with that kind of confidence in their eyes," he murmured, averting his gaze self-consciously.

"We ALL have confidence in you, Aaron. We wouldn't follow you if we didn't. There isn't a single member of this team that doesn't have unwavering faith in you," Emily replied firmly, truth flowing in every statement.

"You understand me," Aaron said, his voice low as he stared down at their joined hands. Her smaller hand seemed dwarfed in his grip, and yet he knew that at that moment, she was definitely the stronger person.

"We're two intensely private people, Hotch," she nodded, following his gaze. His hand gripped hers with a reassuring force, reminding her that the Hotch that she knew and loved was still in there, still alive.

"Kindred spirits," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

But she'd caught his words, and she felt the heat of a blush fill her cheeks. She had thought that very same thought before, but never voiced it. "Of a fashion," she agreed quietly with a slight inclination of her head.

Sitting in comfortable silence for several minutes, he allowed himself to be comforted by the stillness of his surroundings and her presence. Finally he gave her a sidelong glance. "I don't want to go home."

His abrupt words startled her. After the prior revelations of this evening, his words shouldn't have shocked her. Nevertheless, the fact remained, she was momentarily dumbstruck. Striving to keep an even tone to her voice, Emily offered, not even having to think twice about her words, "Stay here." And when she heard them come out of her mouth, she suddenly wondered if he was going to respond in the way she wanted him to.

Eying her carefully, he looked for a sign. Any sign to show him that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Seeing her hands flutter nervously to her hair and her teeth capture her lower lip, he smiled. An honest to God, genuine smile on his lips, he reached out to smooth his thumb over the offended lip. "I want to stay," he whispered gently. "But, I don't want you to regret it later."

Leaning toward him, she stared at him with soft eyes. "I don't think I would. And I wouldn't have made the offer if I didn't want to be with you."

Tugging her the last few inches that separated their bodies, Hotch slowly lowered his head to hers. Capturing the soft sigh that escaped her lips with his mouth, he slowly tasted her, savored his first sip of the heady intoxicating flavor that was Emily Prentiss. Deepening the contact between their two mouths, he shifted her supple body into his lap and let himself revel in the easy slow slide of her tongue against his.

Finally, reluctantly pulling away, Emily lifted her eyes to his as she shifted in his lap. "How do you feel now, Aaron?"

Slowly pulling her toward him again, he released the breath he'd been holding. "For the first time, in a long time, I feel warm and alive. Like I'm not in a waking nightmare."

Smiling gently, Emily nodded, a warmth in her voice, "Then it sounds like you're exactly where you need to be."

Tracing a shaking finger down the line of her jaw, he nodded, his words simple but heartfelt.

"Thank you, Emily."

**_finis_**


End file.
